


Doctober 2020

by FoxesOwlsandBumblebees



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Autistic Doctor (Doctor Who), Canon Non-Binary Character, Chapter 7 is all crack and I'm not sorry, F/M, I can say that, M/M, Mentioned Fourth Doctor, Missy has stupid dreams, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Rose Tyler is adorable, Rose Tyler is sapphic, i don't make the rules, mentions of Missy - Freeform, most ships are implied, multi-Master fun, since 13 is a woman, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxesOwlsandBumblebees/pseuds/FoxesOwlsandBumblebees
Summary: Just a number of quickly written stories for Sophie Iles' Doctober!https://twitter.com/sophilestweets/status/1311654999865413633?s=20
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald, Fourth Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith, Ninth Doctor/Jack Harkness, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Twelfth Doctor/Missy, Twelfth Doctor/Psi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill has done the classic university thing that we're all guilty of.  
> She's left her essay until the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting this off with a bit of light angst and an almost panic attack. If that triggers you, please don't read. Featuring Bill Potts and the Twelfth Doctor.  
> Prompt for Day 1: Worry

Bill Potts was worried.

She looked over her essay for the fifth time and came to the same conclusion she had come to the last five times: _It’s just not very good._

She sighed.

But what could she do? Could she delete the whole thing and try again? Would the Doctor understand? After all, the subject matter of Ancient Greek poetry was never really her strong point.

Especially not their relevance to modern times.

She considered sending them a text. But then (of course) they might just tell her she shouldn’t have left it until the night before. They might still be upset over her calling them her grandfather the other night.

In her defence, it wasn’t like they were open with the gender neutral pronouns….

She shook her head, pressing print before she changed her mind and ambled over to the printer. It was already ten o’clock, and she didn’t really want to stay awake all night. Her shift started at eight tomorrow, after all and she needed to get the essay in before that.

Placing the printed out essay on her bedside table with the pen to fill in the front sheet on top, she turned away from it to try and get some sleep.

Her worry could wait until tomorrow.

-

Bill Potts was two steps away from concern.

She was hesitating outside the Doctor’s office, clutching her essay in her hand. And worrying.

The plan from last night had failed. Every few minutes, the panic would set in and she’d jump back awake to try and look over her essay again. In fact, she was about thirty seconds away from just throwing it under the Doctor’s door and running…

She was about to do just that when the door flung open and Nardole hurried out. He muttered something about doughnuts and swamp monsters, and Bill quickly edged past him before the door closed.

The quiet thump of the door drew the Doctor out of whatever they were doing with their screwdriver and the mechanical model on their desk. They looked up to grin at her. “Bill! Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Um, no, I’m alright, Doctor, but-“

“Just here to drop off your essay then, or have you got time for a chat?”

She was honestly wanting to just throw it down on the desk and leave, but their lopsided smile and general friendliness encouraged her to sit down. “Always got time for a chat with you, Doctor.”

Their smile grew brighter and they put aside the model and screwdriver “So! How was 'The Modern Day Necessities of Ancient Greek Poetry'?” The Doctor wasn’t very good at discerning emotion, but when Bill felt her face drop, their expression softened “Ah. I’m sorry. I thought you’d like Sappho. I included her in the question list for a reason, you know.”

She gave a small smile “I did appreciate that. It’s just…”

“Poetry not your strong point?”

“No.” Again, Bill was worrying. “It’s just…” She shook her head, trying to will away her thoughts “Nothing. It’s fine.” With a sudden surge of confidence, she held out the essay “I’ve done it. And it’s in before twelve.”

The Doctor’s mouth quirked up slightly as they took it “I’ll have this back later today, okay?”

Bill heard them say it, but it was like it came from very far away. It was out of her hands now, and she couldn’t deal with it and she could stop thinking about it and… The words began to climb up her throat like panic settling in and she found herself blurting out “I’m really sorry if it’s not very good, I just tried my absolute hardest I was just-“ She twisted her hands together, no longer having the staple to fidget with “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

The Doctor had been studying her the whole time and leaned on their hand “You’re really worried about this aren’t you?”

She stopped babbling. The sudden analysis made her reel back. “Yes. I think I am, yes.”

Instead of standing up abruptly and cancelling the session like she expected them to, the Doctor gave her a gentle smile. They tapped something out on their phone and then looked up at her “I didn’t mean it.”

She reached for their hand that was slightly outstretched and took it. She squeezed her eyes shut as she did, trying to shove down the lump in her throat. When she spoke, it made a lot more sense than she was hoping “Didn’t mean what?”

“That I’d stop being your personal tutor if you got anything less than a first.”

She slowly flickered her eyes open “Really?”

The Doctor gave a gentle nod and a reassuring smile “It was just some.. um, meaningful encouragement.” Their smile became more amused “Plus, it sounded good as a one liner.”

The smile was infectious and she couldn’t help but return it. She felt the slightest amount of relief begin to creep up “So you’re not going to-“

“Kick you out? Of course not.” They have another glance to their phone “Though I will have to fire Nardole if he takes any longer with our tea, the stupid bloody-”

As if on cue, Nardole came in and the sound of the Doctor’s amusing criticism of their friend calmed the butterflies clamouring their way up her stomach.

For now.

-

Bill Potts was anxious.

When she started her shift, she was fine.

But then Bill was greeted with the Doctor.

Just the sight of them and their usual horrific diet begging for more chips almost drove her to anxiety. She didn’t _want_ small talk, she wanted her essay results!

The Doctor, unfortunately, gave nothing away. They merely offered a warm smile as she served them, asking quietly for a meeting after her shift. She nodded, trying to hide the now elephant sized butterflies, trying not to let them realise that she was erring on the side of panic.

The Doctor didn’t realise. They merely gave her a wink clearly intended as friendly but came across more as disturbing, and then disappeared back to their office, leaving Nardole to pay for their food. As always.

She watched them go fondly and then tried to fill her mind with the chips.

It didn’t work. The warm smile could have meant _anything._ And her bet was that it was something bad.

She didn’t even successfully manage to shift her thoughts when that cute girl came for her chips. Her soft smile of a greeting was late, and she didn’t even panic over that. Her whole mind was just abuzz with ‘essay, essay, essay’…

She sighed heavily. This was going to be a long shift.

-

Bill Potts was absolutely bricking it.

Again.

This seemed to be a common theme.

She leaned her head against the door and began to hear another commotion. But instead of the Doctor shouting, it seemed to be Nardole.

She didn’t catch all of the conversation, but the snippets of “Why didn’t you do that?!” And “Absolutely terrified all day!” Seemed to be all she needed to know: she shouldn’t listen in to what they were talking about.

She began to get a particularly awful sinking feeling about the whole thing.

Just as she was about to leave them to their conversation, the door opened slowly. Bill watched Nardole slam something down on the Doctor’s desk and then storm out of the door being held open by the other occupant. Again, Nardole didn’t see Bill, and again, neither did the Doctor.

Though she did hear the Doctor mutter under their breath something about a robotic pudding brain. Whatever that meant.

Bill waited until the Doctor went back to their seat and then passed through the open door to their desk.

“Um, Doctor?!”

The Doctor’s expression instantly brightened from their previous exasperation “Bill! Good news! The tea boy has actually managed to give us tea!” They stood up to usher her into her seat and show her the teacups with a smile.

Unless she was reading too much into it, they weren’t about to tell her that she’d failed. Not with that expression.

Unless they’d become particularly good at hiding their real feelings…

Bill was shaken out of her thoughts by the Doctor producing her marked essay with a smile. No cover sheet. Just the plain essay.

Oh lord.

The Doctor saw her presumably wary expression and they ran their hand over their face. They took a deep breath and began to speak. “The first thing I’d like to say to you is that if you were to get anything less than a first, it would mean I’d failed and not you. You misunderstanding my essay subject is a blatant flaw in my explanations as a teacher.”

Hmmm. She didn’t like where this was going, as much as she appreciated the comment. It was what had put her off coming to university in the first place, professors thinking they were better than the students for understanding something they didn’t. It was nice to hear them saying it outright and she offered them a small smile.

The Doctor noticed her expression and offered a quick smile in response before hesitating. They seemed to be studying the post-it note on their desk. She’d noticed the fluorescent yellow against the dark wood the moment she’d come in. “But the second thing I’d like to say is that if you’re not having a good time, my work doesn’t have to take top priority. Take some time for yourself or something.”

Bill sighed heavily. They were being nice. It was all them being nice so that they could let her down easily. That was probably why Nardole had phrased it so nicely on the post-it note

They placed Bill’s essay in front of her “All that being said, the fact that you seriously thought you’d get anything less than a first with this incredibly brilliant teacher and their fantastically insightful student is a flaw on your part.”

_What?!_

She looked down at her essay. Seventy three. She stared at the numbers as though they’d disappear and she watched them blur. “I…”

The Doctor reached over to pat her shoulder, passing her the teacup they were holding “Told you there was nothing to worry about.”

She wanted to _hug them_.

She settled for taking the cup and giving them a smile. “You couldn’t have told me earlier? Saved me all that worry?”

The Doctor looked abashed, looking back down at their note “Sorry. I didn’t realise. I’m used to keeping people on their toes. Didn’t realise it was giving you added pressure.” They gave a gentle smile “I thought you were above that. You haven’t dropped once since I started this, and here was me thinking you’d be fine You’re a smart girl, Bill.” The Doctor shook their head “Worry is for things you can’t control. Your work is consistent brilliance. You didn’t need to worry.”

Bill’s lip gave an involuntary stammer at the words. She liked hearing those words coming from someone. She considered expressing how much that meant to her, but the Doctor already looked embarrassed, focusing on scrunching the post-it into a tight ball, so she left it.

Instead, she lifted the cup to her lips, looking once more from her essay to the Doctor and smiled, feeling the worry entirely seep out of her.

“No. I really didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University's difficult, man. I wish I had the Doctor as MY personal tutor...  
> I'm not very good at describing emotion, but I hope I got the point across?


	2. Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's not quite sure she's convinced by the Doctor's new sonic sunglasses. They have their necessities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set just after The Witch's Familiar  
> Mentions of Thoschei (or Twissy or whatever that ship is called), and a slight indication of Missy/Clara in the ship I now call 'Chaos'.

Clara doesn’t get it.

The Doctor knew that the moment they stepped back into the TARDIS on the way back to Earth from Skaro. She was bouncing excitedly, but her ever present bright smile faltered slightly as she looked over at them. And it stayed that way up until they opened the door for her to leave.

She doesn’t like the sunglasses.

“So are you going to keep wearing those, or...”

Their hand reaches their face to touch at their glasses “Yes.”

There’s a strained silence.

They wish Missy was here. Missy’s good at words - better than them, anyway. Better at explaining their nuances.

The Master has always understood them better than they understand themself.

“I hate change too,” they say, interrupting their thoughts before they start to linger on the Master. It’s a loud noise in the quiet of the TARDIS.

Clara practically falls over her own feet to defend herself “No, it’s not that, it’s just different, you know? I mean, you said about the- you mentioned the whole jacket thing.”

That... they actually can’t believe she bought that. It was an offhand comment, something stupid to explain the real reason.

In all honesty, they got it out of a woman’s fashion magazine.

“... Yes. I did.”

She reaches over to pat their hand and they force themself to stay still. “I’ll see you next week, then? Try not to die in the meantime.” She pauses on her way to the door, her skirt flouncing a little and smiles “And if the planes stop again, tell Missy I said both hi and fuck off.”

They smile slightly and awkwardly raise their hand to let her go. It’s meant to be a wave, but they look uncomfortably like they’re hailing a cab.

The second she’s gone, they take off their glasses, placing them back into their coat, and run a hand over their eyes. The TARDIS understands, and when they uncover their eyes, it’s dim. The soft yellow lights have faded even further, and the hum has diminished to a whirr easily tuned out.

The TARDIS gets it.

Clara doesn’t.

Of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t even understand their relationship with Missy.

They think for a second.

It doesn’t take much thought.

They’re not going to tell her.

They’re not going to tell her that fiddling with the screwdriver as a comfort item has burned holes in their pockets.

They’re not going to tell her that the high pitched whine is uncomfortably loud this time around.

They’re not going to tell her that the fluorescent glow they can usually ignore is particularly vibrant this time.

They’re not going to tell her that the universe, usually awash with colour, is so uncomfortably _bright_ that they have to dim it with sunglasses.

They’re not going to tell her because that would mean explaining everything. Their past, things they just would prefer to ignore...

Mind made up, they flick the lever on the TARDIS they know will send her spinning into the vortex.

They give an awkward smile to the console room and then back up into the corridor.

They’re going to an observatory deck.

Or maybe not. Maybe they’ll go to their makeshift street where they keep the cats and just have a little walk.

Without the street lamps of course.

Just... somewhere where the light isn’t so bright.


	3. Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master has regenerated. And now it's time for him to find an outfit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Lord, this character was fun to write for! I think I'm going to have to hike up the rating thanks to the swearing, but when writing the Master, he really does take the reins and run. Well, he isn't called 'the Master' for nothing...  
> Set straight after The Doctor Falls.

“Well that was a bother,” The Master snapped as he finally pulled the doors to his TARDIS open and slamming them shut behind him in a huff. The regeneration had happened in the middle of the bloody battlefield, and he hadn’t been fortunate enough to bump into the Doctor on the way there. He had no bloody clue what he looked like; the only think he did know was that he was a man again. And his skin looked slightly darker than last time.

Wonderful.

The Master had never really agonised over gender in the same way he knew the Doctor did. Being a woman, being ‘Missy’ had been fun, but now… He smiled, looking down at his flat chest. It was good to be the Master again.

Storming off in the direction of the wardrobe, he undressed, glad to finally be free of that _bloody_ corset, and balled the awful dress up in his hands. He threw it down once he reached the wardrobe and reached for the underwear. Nudity was fun in its own right, but he just wanted to dress himself. Turning around once he had some pants on, he froze as he saw his reflection.

He was _young_.

And… attractive.

 _Jokes on you, Eyebrows_.

He admired his new reflection in the mirror. His skin seemed to be at the sort of human Indian complexion, dark eyes and hair with a slight wave to it further confirming his hypothesis. He had a slight beard, but it looked _good_.

Much better than the blond psycho’s, anyway.

He pursed his lips at his reflection, quite proud of what his regeneration lottery had given him this time around and, with a lot of difficulty, turned back to the rest of the wardrobe.

Layers. He wanted layers.

Pushing any thoughts of being subconsciously inspired by the Doctor, he rushed to find a shirt, waistcoat, pocket watch and overcoat. If he was going to do Victorian, it was going to be consistent. None of the Doctor’s anachronistic crap.

 _Don't think about that moron_ , he admonished himself as he pulled the outfit on _Standing with him would have been absolutely no fun at all and you know it. If he's dead, good._

Within a matter of minutes, he was fully dressed. The Master turned back to that mirror to have a proper look at his - now clothed - self.

Now _that_ worked.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, reaching down to pick up Missy’s dress from where he’d thrown it and straightened back up to just admire his new pretty face again.

And then paused.

Yes, he looked _great_ in dark blue, and the yellow worked surprisingly well against his darker skin tone.

But the _purple_ …

Again, the Master threw down Missy’s dress, chucking the coat and waistcoat away as he did. Searching through the wardrobe of the TARDIS, looking for the perfect item, he suddenly stopped. _There_ it was.

A checked waistcoat.

He’d considered it way back when he’d first had a particularly sexy goatee, but it hadn’t really worked with his complexion. But now, _now_ , it was perfect. He threw the waistcoat on and that beautiful plum coloured woollen overcoat on top and admired himself in the mirror.

Now _that_ was perfect.

The Master left his TARDIS to clear up the mess he'd made in the wardrobe and strode his way back to the console room.

He felt _good_.

Purple seemed to do that to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know O happened (and O's outfit was safari guide on tour), I just wanted to consider the Master’s thought process when he decided on his gloriously Victorian outfit. The prompt was too fun to pass up on.


	4. Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah Jane has just left the Doctor. She can't exactly say she's pleased with her decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I manage to get both of these chapters in before day 4 ended? I'm surprised too  
> Set just after The Hand of Fear

Finally!

Sarah Jane flopped down onto her sofa. The journey down from Aberdeen had been arduous to say the least. She’d called Harry at the next phone booth and he’d fortunately got UNIT’s Scottish branch to send her a car. Practically a luxurious journey. Though it had been embarrassing clutching her toy owl to her chest while men she didn’t know made pleasant small talk.

The issues had come when she’d tried to direct them to Hill View Drive, but that was another story.

Regardless, she was thankful for their help and just glad to be finally home. She reached over to the window to place her plant back where it came from, and looked over at her suitcase. She heard her aunt Lavinia shouting from the other room, but she’d talk to her later. Right now, she needed to unpack.

She reached her bedroom with a happy sigh, the scent of dust rising up and making her sneeze. Other than the dust, Lavinia had kept the room very clean. Well organised.

Not really her forte, but she appreciated the effort.

Pulling her suitcase over to her bed, she collapsed on the bed in a similar dramatic fashion to the way she had on the sofa minutes before.

And it gave her time to finally breathe.

She managed to hold in her tears long enough to reach down to her suitcase and pull out the item she’d smuggled away while packing.

The Doctor’s scarf.

Cuddling it against her chest, she finally let herself cry.

Sarah Jane had left the Doctor.

And she hadn’t even said a proper goodbye. Merely a promise to never forget him. As though she’d forget that silly _silly_ man.

He’d forget _her_ though.

She thought she was doing a pretty good job at only crying ever so softly, but that thought really made her bawl. Oh, why did she have to leave him?!

She knew that she wasn’t safe on Gallifrey.

She knew she needed to better establish herself and her career.

She knew that the Doctor didn’t care for her as much as she cared for him

That didn’t stop her from wanting to stay.

He’d forget her. It was inevitable. He was 700 years old; she was honestly surprised he remembered her name as well as he did.

But she’d never forget him. That absolute brute who’d shown her the whole universe, things beyond her wildest dreams. The white haired dandy was quite a charmer, but he was nothing compared to her insane bohemian…. The scarf was soft and worn, and she knew the Doctor had a thousand of them like it, but this one brought back so many memories. K1, the Brigadier, the Loch Ness monster, Harry… She sniffed, rubbing the fabric against her cheek gently. Leaving was the right thing to do. It stopped her feelings from getting hurt and stopped any possible emotions before they threatened to make an appearance.

Here, she was safe to cry over what could never be.

She balled the long fabric and held it to her chest. It smelt of him. All windswept and dust, and all powdered with sugar from jelly babies. She laughed through her tears as she cuddled it. She was really going to miss life in the TARDIS.

Scratch that, she was really going to miss _him_. His jokes, his insanity, his rashness, his perpetual sweet tooth, his silly Victorian sense of fashion…

His sharp blue eyes, his messy curls, his big wide smile, the way he told her how clever she was…

She shook her head, reaching over to where she’d discarded her cuddly owl and unballed the Doctor’s scarf, slowly wrapping it around the neck of the owl. She smiled at it and placed it on her bed.

It was okay. She’d just learn to move on. She learned that from Andrew and Sammy.

Though neither of them were quite so magnificent-

“Sarah Jane Smith! I would like to have a lovely well needed conversation with my niece, thank you very much!”

Sarah Jane jumped at the shout, wiping tears away from her face and smiled. She couldn't exactly ignore her loving aunt. Especially not now she could really do with a hug. “Coming, Aunt Lavinia!”

She’d unpack properly later.


	5. Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! A mini mental breakdown later and I’m back, ready to spew out some more Doctor Who fanfiction to the masses! (Read: the few people who actually read my stories)  
> Although this is called the 31 days of Doctober, I don’t think I’m going to be following the day by day uploads. My anxiety can’t really take it. Hence why it’s technically the 9th but I’ve only just finished the 5th.  
> So instead, I’m still going to follow the idea of the day by day uploads, just at my own pace. A chapter a day, if I can still do it, but if I can’t, I’m not going to stress about it. Expect infrequent updates, but hopefully I should still keep relative to my own schedule and be done with this challenge by November.  
> Hope that makes sense?
> 
> It's been thirty years since the events of 'Time Heist', but Psi is still missing his memories. Maybe a stranger in a bar can help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you actually believe I used Grammarly for this one? Unbelievable.  
> Set thirty years after Time Heist

I’ve been in this bar for _hours_ , my brain tells me every five minutes, and I wish it would shut up.

In an attempt to silence it, I signal for the bartender and he rolls his eyes as he pours my drink. He knows I can hear him. He knows I hear the mutters under his breath that breathe  _ ‘Robot’ _ . It doesn’t bother me anymore. Not as much as it used to.

The truth about this whole exasperating situation is that I do feel that way. I  _ do _ feel like a robot. I haven’t known proper emotion in many many years.

Deleting any memory of your family will do that to you.

But… I knew my inherent kindness. My feelings and emotions that completely override any ounces of robotics. Happiness, sadness, worry, panic, all of them.

And then…

I was given a task. A frankly ridiculous task, if you ask me. Put forward by an anonymous source.

I remember nothing about the main task. Only that I’m now an accomplished criminal. Again.

But the task itself doesn’t matter. I recall a group with two young women and a man. A wonderful, magnificent man.

And this man made me feel things. He didn’t linger on the mechanical parts of me, staring at them in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

He didn’t treat me like a  _ robot _ .

He treated me like a  _ human _ .

Something I haven’t been given the courtesy of in over thirty years

“Do you regret the augmentation?” My head jerks up, breaking me out of my reverie and I look over to see a man. He’s fairly nondescript, seems to be around the same age as me. But his intense grey eyes focus on me in an almost alarming way. He repeats the question, seemingly realising he’d broken me out of something “The robotic elements. Do you regret them?”

I shift around in my seat. It isn’t something I’d ever thought about before. I just know that at some point, I chose to have these cybernetic additions.

Resulting in years of humanity based existential crises that would make even the most seasoned philosopher blush.

I shrug, realising I haven’t answered him yet “I don’t know.” I hold up the neophyte circuit still resting in my palm “But I wouldn’t need this if I hadn’t done it.”

The man stares at the circuit and I slip it back into my pocket. I don’t know why I showed him it.

It was given to me by that wonderful man. He told me it could recover any possible deleted memories. I just needed someone to fit it.

Thirty years later, I still haven’t found anyone who can help.

My hair’s gone grey and gravity has taken a toll on my features, but my mind is still as sharp as ever. Or of course, it would be.

If it wasn’t for those blasted memories.

“I’m guessing you don’t remember? And that’s why you need…” he focuses on my now empty hand. I shouldn’t have shown it to him. I think I just did it for dramatic effect.

“Yes.” I turn away from him to try and signal an end to my conversation. He didn’t seem to be picking up on my social cues during our short back and forth, so I just reach over to order another drink.

The bar staff has switched around. I didn’t realise it had been that long.

At least the girl who serves me now doesn’t give me a disgusted look as I turn my head.

I take a swig of my newly replaced glass and mull over the man I’d met thirty years prior.

As though I’ve done anything but since.

I reach into my trouser pocket and smoothed out the note I’d been given. His number.

He’d given me a gesture just before I left his spaceship. A little ‘call me’ thing I recognised from the twentieth century. The bits and pieces I do remember have him looking a little confused over whether he’d used it right. I’d smiled gently and nodded. I acted coy.

I don’t know why I did that.

_ Robotics _ a cruel voice in my mind says. It can bugger off.

I didn’t take him up on the offer. I wanted to, but I never have. Insecurities tiding in, I suppose. Excitement to see my family again if not only in memory. The fact his young friend had stared at me in a sort of ‘back off’ way.

Hence why I’m still here, thirty years later, regretting every second I didn’t take him up on the offer of travelling the universe with him.

“Why haven’t you used the circuit yet?”

The stranger next to me still won’t let up. It’s as though he’s desperate for someone to talk to. I almost feel bad for him in a way.

Old age either hardens or mellows the soul. I’m afraid it’s even further softened my already gentle disposition.

So, of course, I answer him. “I got screwed over. Someone promised to fit it and I woke up in a room with more memories gone. That was thirty years ago.” I take another gulp of my drink “Haven’t trusted anyone to that extent since.”

The stranger winces. “How much did you forget?”

I swirl my drink around my glass and rub my hand across my face “I did something with a group of people. I don’t remember what it was.” I don’t  _ really  _ care about that. I care about  _ him.  _ “I don’t remember what he looked like.”

“Who?”

Did I really say that? Did I really mention the man swirling around in my vast fog of memory?

Acting without thinking, I nod again, showing him my note “The man who gave me this. And the circuit.” I rub my head “I’ve been searching for someone trustworthy for the past thirty years.”  _ I’ve been searching for him _ .

He hums quietly and I look at him again. There’s a slight grin on his face “You ran into the right person.”

I snort. Instant cynicism builds up within me “Would you trust someone you’ve never met in a bar to replace something for you?”

A chuckle “Ah, you see, it’s different with me. I haven’t been screwed over like that before.” He hesitates “But yes. I think I would.”

“Why?”

“Because,” He focuses his grey eyes on me and it’s so intense that I almost reel back on my stool “You feel something for him.” I frown and he continues “You’re an augmented human. You want to feel something to avoid your robotics taking over you. And you feel like this man, whoever he is, is the key to it.” He takes my hand with the now scrunched up note in it “You kept his note not because you needed to, but because you wanted to. That’s… that’s emotion. And if it’s the closest you get to your own humanity, then you’re going to take it.”

I stare at him. It’s as though he knows me inside out. I examine him closely to see whether he has any digital enhancements to allow any psychic interference. I can’t see any, but the technology has got better over the years. It might not be as noticeable as mine.

He drops my hand awkwardly and rubs his own through his curls. “Sorry. I shouldn’t.”

I haven’t been looking at him properly. I sit back in my chair.

He mustn’t be augmented. Not if that’s a tear running down his face.

I turn in my chair to chug my drink. The girl at the bar has kindly refilled it and I reach the bottom with almost impressive speed.

It helps rid me of the clawing hatred burning up in my chest.

The liquid confidence has gone straight to my head and I pat the stranger on his shoulder “If you pay for my drinks, I’ll come with you. If you screw me over, I don’t care.”

For once, I don’t  _ care _ if this man is using some sort of technology to look inside my head. He’s expressed more kindness and frank analysis of me than I’ve encountered in the past thirty years.

And he doesn’t care about the glowing microchips on the side of my head.

The man looks over to the girl on the bar, holding his card out for her to scan and then turns back to me with a nod.

-

He brings me to his spaceship. Because of course a man as strange as he has a spaceship. He sits me down on one of his chairs and holds the neophyte in front of me. I smile, and it's all the convincing he needs.

"Hold still, Psi. This is going to hurt."

He's right. It's absolute  _ agony _ . It feels like he's taken a drill and bored it directly into my temple.

But the moment I begin to remember, the pain melts away.

Everything - and I mean everything - comes back. The memories of my family I’ve gone without for the past thirty-five years are in my head again.

And the faces. The exact way my mother's eyes twinkle, the curl of my father’s moustache, the round face of my brother.

I'd forgotten how  _ alike _ we all seem. I'd forgotten how gruff my dad looks, how sweet my mum is, the cheekiness of my younger brother.

The stories my dad used to tell us, the way he'd do the voice of that silly goat, the scent of my mum's cooking, the gift I got my brother for his birthday.

The faces of my group. The individuals I robbed the bank of Karabraxos with. Yes, of  _ course _ , I robbed the most prolific bank in the galaxy.

The two young women (Clara, Saibra! Their faces come to mind and they’re both so beautiful) and the man. The wonderful, magnificent (if not infuriating, something my almost poetic mind chose to forget) man.

Who is standing right in front of me.

I’m feeling so many  _ emotions _ at the same time that, without thinking, I stand up, I throw my arms around the man I now recognise to be the Doctor and kiss him. He doesn’t respond immediately, but he lets me express the passion I feel, thrusting my tongue inside his mouth and exploring it with such vigour that I almost forget to breathe.

I dare  _ anyone _ to call me a robot after that.

Eventually, he clutches my jacket as though I’m the only thing keeping him upright and kisses me back.

I truly could kiss him forever. My silly augmented brain tells me its time to stop, but I don’t want to. I want to ignore it.

I have  _ wants. _ I have  _ emotions. _

I am  _ human. _

Long, long after my brain tells me to stop, I break away from the Doctor’s mouth and gently brush our lips together “Thank you.”

He nods, looking a little lost before sprinting off around the console of his ship. I pretend not to notice that there’s a shake in his stride “Guessing you remember where you live now?”

The address rolls off my tongue easily and I almost kiss him again. He’s busy, so I don’t. But the sheer  _ elation  _ I feel at the prospect of reuniting with my family is worth all the focus I can fathom.

The thought keeps me from bothering my magnificent friend during our travels. We occasionally share a smile, but I can't tell whether it's awkward or loving. The Doctor lands us with the odd wheezing sound of his ship and looks at me oddly. I can’t help notice that Clara isn’t here. He looks slightly awkward “Um if you get bored after seeing your family, you can always... come back.”

I smiled at him “I doubt that I will. But I appreciate your efforts.”

He gives me a nervous smile but looks over at his little screen “Everyone is still alive. I put them into the system. I didn’t want you to show up and then get upset that they’re not-“

I move over to him to kiss him again, effectively cutting him off “Thank you.”

As I leave, I’ve never felt so at one with my own humanity. The blood pulsing through my veins, the nervous beating of my heart, the light sweat over my body. Trepidation at seeing my family again.

I am no robot.

Especially not when I have my memories to protect me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psi support network now taking applications.  
> Why didn’t we get another episode with this character? The Doctor definitely fancied him, and I’m a sucker for non-humans (or uh, I guess augmented humans in Psi’s case) in the TARDIS. Maybe one day…


	6. Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald and the Eleventh Doctor are about to go on a date in the Lake District, when they bump into a couple of old friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can’t do my usual introspection/character study with a prompt like ‘pet’, so here’s a silly little fluffy story.
> 
> Set post The Name of the Doctor. Established 11/Clara

Finally. The Doctor and Clara had _finally_ made it to the Lake District. They’d made the promise ages ago to visit and they had never quite got round to it.

Until now.

Clara took a step out of the TARDIS and breathed in the fresh air of the English countryside. It was lovely just being back in the familiar. Just stone houses, beautiful lakes, rampant flora and fauna...

A robot dog barrelling towards her at top speed...

“Master!”

The robot dog could  _ speak _ .

Fortunately, before crashing into her, it stopped, scanning her with a little laser that came out of its nose. It’s noise also altered the Doctor, who bounced out of the TARDIS and grinned brightly. He instantly bent down to stroke the dog with a happy yell of “K9!”

As disconcerting as the sight of something like a robot dog was, Clara liked to think that she was past the point of being surprised by things life with the Doctor threw at her.

Since an awkward confession a few weeks prior, she’d realised she kind of had to get used to it. Being his girlfriend and all.

Clara gave him a small smile, bending down next to him “Your dog’s called K9? That’s not very inventive, is it?”

The Doctor was so enraptured by the dog that he almost forgot to be offended. Almost. He elbowed her gently “Shut up! Oh, K9, I’ve missed you!” He adopted the sort of voice you would towards a dog, very high and excited “Where’s your mistress? Where’s your mistress? Fetch Sarah!”

“I’m right here, Doctor.” Clara slowly pushed herself up and came face to face with an older woman.

Who she definitely recognised.

“Oh my... Sarah Jane, right?”

The woman gave almost a confused smile and Clara stammered “Yeah, right, sorry, I, uh...” she considered explaining the recent ‘jumping through the Doctor’s time stream and mixing with his past in a way that meant she subconsciously recognised all of his past selves and friends’, but she figured another option was better. Especially if she still wanted to keep playing with that adorable little dog...

“The Doctor talks about you a lot! Yeah!”

The Doctor’s head jerked to look at her once he’d finished locking the TARDIS, and Clara stared him out “Apparently you had a relationship like mine and his?”

Sarah Jane gave what seemed like a fake laugh “Um, yes, I suppose I did.”

The Doctor stammered a little and took Clara’s hand “That was a long time ago, Clara-“

“Oh no, I’m not jealous!” She chuckled, squeezing his hand in reassurance and grinning at the woman “He changes his face and it’s like he’s a different man completely.”

Sarah Jane’s smile became more genuine “That’s certainly what I experienced, Miss..?”

“Oswald. Clara Oswald.”

“Clara!” Sarah Jane reached her hand out to shake Clara’s in greeting “What brings you two to the Lakes? I’m researching for a story - I’m a journalist, you see, though I’m sure the Doctor told you - and there’s a very interesting looking artefact that certainly seems very alien in origin just up this hill.” She gestured at the footpath just in front of them “My son offered me use of K9 to scan it, and honestly, we could do with the holiday, couldn’t we, boy?”

Clara’s smile twitched as she turned slowly to the Doctor, ignoring K9’s affirmative response “You told me this was a date.”

He began to stammer again “It is! It just so happens that there’s something I’ve been meaning to check out, that’s probably harmless.” He met her eyes, clearly seeing the anger she so rightly felt “I promise! Listen, we’re still on for tea and scones later, right?”

She nodded reluctantly “How far up the hill is it?”

The Doctor fixed her with the best puppy dog expression he could. Which, she had to admit, was good. Not quite as good as her own, but up there. “Five minutes at most.”

Sarah Jane and K9 seemed to already be well on their way up the hill. Clara sighed heavily “Alright,  _ fine _ .”

She was honestly acting more annoyed than she was. It was exciting to meet someone from the Doctor’s past in-person - and even more exciting to meet a talking robotic dog. No matter how unimaginative the name was.

The Doctor grinned at her albeit reluctant response in that endearingly childish way and pulled her up to follow behind Sarah Jane and K9.

Sarah Jane was talking to herself more than anything else, and Clara couldn’t help but feel a small pang of sympathy for her. She seemed to be in her fifties or sixties and her only friend was a robot dog. No partner and the closest thing she’d clearly had to one was here with another woman.

Mind made up, Clara tapped the Doctor’s shoulder and smiled at his stupid face when he looked back at her “I’m more than willing to look after the robot dog if you want a catch-up.”

The Doctor’s face softened “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t...” she looked over at K9 and grinned “But I really, really want to.”

He nodded at her, kissing her chastely and then rushed to catch up with his friend.

K9 was naturally pushed behind and Clara took the space on the trail next to him. Sarah Jane and the Doctor seemed fairly fast when chatting beside one another, but Clara’s short legs and K9’s little wheels couldn’t quite follow on their heels. Within a matter of seconds, they were almost unbelievably far into the distance.

“Where are my master and mistress?” K9 asked, the little red light flickering across his eye panel as he trundled along up the hill.

Clara wasn’t one for talking as she hiked, but the little dog was cute “They’ve gone ahead. It’s alright if I look after you, isn’t it?”

There was a pause and then the dog’s tail started wagging “Affirmative, Miss Oswald.”

His little robotic voice was so ridiculously sweet, Clara felt her face crumble into an ‘aww’. She shook her head, now insistent on making conversation “So, uh, what do you know about the Doctor?”

“He is a good master. He built me for my mistress.” Ah. That explains the title “He gave me to her as a gift and we have been a good pair ever since.”

Clara nodded “So Sarah Jane and the Doctor were close?” She didn’t need to ask that. She knew that it was a long time ago, and he’d promised that he’d regenerated a good seven or so times since then, but she was desperate to scratch that itch.

“Affirmative. When master was tall with curly hair, he would talk about her positively a lot. Mistress certainly refers to him positively even when he left her in Aberdeen.”

She took the word ‘positive’ to mean ‘affectionately’. She looked up to see how Sarah Jane and the Doctor interacted and despite herself, she couldn’t bring herself to be jealous. Sarah Jane’s eyes still lingered a little on the Doctor’s, but it seemed more in reverence than anything.

So instead of lingering on K9’s wording, Clara snorted “Well, one thing about him hasn’t changed: he still sucks at piloting the TARDIS.”

“Affirmative, Miss Oswald.”

She was about to take another step upwards when she saw the Doctor waving manically from about a metre away from where Clara and K9 were.

The Doctor hadn’t lied (for once) about how quickly it would take them.

As Clara and K9 neared the Doctor, Clara couldn’t help but take in the beautiful moorland of the district they were now looking down upon. The spot they’d found looked out over the most gorgeous views of the lakes and wilderness. The mountaintop was truly wonderful, and Clara couldn’t help pulling her phone out to take a photo. She rushed ahead to where the Doctor had paused to signal her, and she clung to his arm “Who needs alien planets! Good British countryside, that’s what we need!”

The Doctor patted her shoulder as he looked out across the land. He was shaking slightly with excitement, despite how undeterred his expression was “Why do you think I frequent Earth so much? Certainly isn’t the cities!”

Sarah Jane joined them from the bench she’d been on and her hands reached her chest “Do you have a camera? You two truly look darling together.”

Clara couldn’t help giggling, the adrenaline of the open air and the beauty of the countryside filling her mind with excitement. She reached over to pass Sarah Jane her phone and the Doctor settled his arm around her shoulders as they both smiled for the camera.

“Perfection, mistress!” K9 decided as he trundled up beside Sarah Jane and she showed him the photograph and then passed the phone back to Clara to let her have a look. “I have located the artefact.”

“Good boy, K9!” Clara heard Sarah Jane say as she showed the picture to the Doctor. 

It was definitely going to be her phone background. The nature and beautiful views and the sheer joy on both of their faces just made her so unbelievably happy that she wanted to look at it whenever she opened her phone.

She was vaguely aware of the Doctor leaving to join Sarah Jane and K9 as she quickly made the picture her phone background. She pressed the side button happily and slipping it back in her pocket as she ran up to join the trio again.

The Doctor and Sarah Jane appeared to be knelt down, scanning this object with their respective devices and K9 was chasing a butterfly. She followed after the robot, letting the Doctor and Sarah Jane have their alone time again.

After all, five minutes isn’t really long enough for a catch up.

“So are you basically a real dog or are you more like a person?”

K9 had located the red admiral and was now trying to scan it with the little laser in his nose “Both, Miss Oswald. I have located the butterfly for scientific purposes as well as interest.”

She couldn’t help but smile “Do you chase cats then?”

The dog had presumably logged the butterfly in his database by now and was scanning the ground with the laser in a way that didn’t quite look as scientific as he intended “Only when they are a threat to my mistress.”

“So the Amazon delivery man?”

His little metal tail started wagging again “When he was a Zygon it was imperative. I am merely protecting my mistress from any alien intruders.”

As much as Clara was enjoying this conversation, the Doctor came up to join her. She turned back to grin at him “Alright, you? Is it an alien artefact then?”

The Doctor was surprisingly quiet and Clara recognised his expression and her excitement over everything began to fade “Everything’s okay, isn’t it?”

The Doctor looked at her for a long while and then smiled “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Then why are you upset?”

The Doctor gave her a wistful smile “Oh, Clara, my Clara. Because everything’s fine.”

Sarah Jane came up to join the three of them and, seeing her face, Clara realised suddenly what they meant.

Everything’s... fine.

Everything’s  _ normal _ .

The Doctor turned in a whirl of movement, a sudden practised fake smile on his face as he addressed the older woman “Well, Sarah Jane, it has been an absolute honour to see you again, but I’m afraid my bossy little girlfriend has insisted that we must depart for tea.”

Clara rolled her eyes as the Doctor kissed Sarah Jane’s hand “I’ll batter him, I swear.  _ He _ was the one who insisted on tea.”

Sarah Jane laughed, reaching over to hug the Doctor and then Clara. It felt like being hugged by her dad: the woman gave wonderful hugs. She broke away from her, a myriad of different emotions on her face. Clara could tell she wanted to say so many things so was somewhat relieved when Sarah Jane merely said; “Thank you for looking after K9.”

Clara nodded “He’s a good boy, all things considered.”

Sarah Jane caught her meaning, tears beginning to form in her eyes, but shook her head and turned away “Enjoy your tea and scones. Let’s go, K9.”

Clara found herself leaning against the Doctor as they watched the woman (and dog) go. She looked up at him the moment they were out of eyesight. He was doing that thing where he gives the close-mouthed smile. If he told her he was the bloody king of okay, she was going to whack him.

Instead of giving him the opportunity, she squeezed his hand “Come on, you. I want the nicest place in the Lake District.”

It took him a few seconds to pull himself together but the Doctor’s grin turned excited and his eyes lit up “I know just the place.”


	7. Villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Missy stews away in the Vault considering her past actions, she gets a visit from three versions of herself - Past, Present, and Future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Utter crack that's basically A Christmas Carol. I apologise to Charles Dickens and no-one else.  
> I had a blast writing this, even if it's not up to my usual calibre.  
> Soft implied Missy/12 at the end though, even if you don't enjoy the rest of it.

“Doctor, when I asked for more books, I was thinking of sex and violence. Not this crap.”

The Doctor had come into the Vault with most of the items of Missy’s list, greeting her excitedly and immediately dropping the mountain of books onto the floor for her to have a look through. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to mention the type of books that she’d been hoping for, and as a result, had been left with Victorian muck.

The Doctor rolled their eyes “I’m _sorry_. I’m afraid that since it’s 1901, as I told you, it’s particularly difficult to get that sort of content now. This is the best I can do until we get to the forties.”

She rolled her eyes back at them, picking up a Brontë and throwing it aside “You could’ve at least got something a bit less _dry_.”

“What about ‘David Copperfield’?”

She narrowed her eyes at them “I’m not having you prattling on about how _wonderfully misunderstood_ Mr Micawber is. Or the elements of it still relevant in the twenty-first century. It’s dull and _boring._ ”

The Doctor sighed, looking a little put-out, but she could hardly bring herself to feel sorry for them. They were her prison guard, for God’s sake!

Still rifling through the books, she picked up ‘A Christmas Carol’ and shook it at them “I suppose you’re hoping I’ll turn around.”

The Doctor reached out to take it from her and she pulled her hand back “Er, I think not. Quite a fan of the ghosties. If you could bring me more like this, I might consider you as more of a friend than a bother.”

The Doctor nodded, the disconcerted expression on their face fading to a slightly amused one as they turned to leave “Alright. I’ll get you some ghost stories from the TARDIS. As long as you promise not to leave them lying around again. I don’t want a talking Anne out of reading ‘Gone Girl’ scenario again.”

“And Angela Carter’s ‘Bloody Chambe-‘“ The door shut and Missy frowned. She stepped daintily over where she’d dropped the pile of books and settled in to read the least pathetic one of the lot.

Trust the Doctor to be a Charles Dickens fan.

-

Missy had almost finished the book. It was reaching the boring bit, where Scrooge admits that he’s been a miser his whole life and decides to be good, so she threw it to the ground in disgust.

The clock struck one.

She glanced up at it and two thoughts went through her head.

One, she didn’t realise how slowly she actually read. She swore she’d started at nine o’clock.

Two, she didn’t remember either the egg or the Doctor fitting a -

“I should expect better of you. Reading human novelisations they claim to be works of art. You should be building a bomb!”

She almost jumped. Turning away from her spot on the sofa, Missy saw…

No fucking way.

The book was getting to her.

It was… Goatee. As in, the version of her who had a goatee and that version of the Doctor that was essentially the English version of the one she had at the moment.

“Oh my God…”

“God?! You’re using earth idioms now?” Goatee looked very disappointed.

How the hell did he get here?!

Instead of showing her absolute astonishment, she took a deep breath and fell lazily back onto the sofa “Yes, well, I’m stuck on earth, what did you expect?”

Goatee’s expression had changed from disappointed to concerned “That again?! Was it the Doctor’s fault?”

That was the question. “Technically. What are you even doing here?”

He considered for a second “Why am I here?” He frowned and then a slight grin came to his face “Ah, yes. Because you’re considering quitting villainy. I’m here to tell you that it’s an honestly terrible idea.”

“You what?!” She looked down at the particularly pathetic book.

It must be that. It _had_ to be.

How else could she explain how herself from thirty years prior was standing in front of her?!

“You’re quitting villainy. Or at least, you certainly seem to be having a change of pace. You’ve not been ready to outright kill the Doctor in a few years, anyway.”

“That’s because they- _he’s_ been..." She wasn't in the mood "Why do you care, anyway?! You’ve got a long time to go until you reach me!”

“Because, my dear, I know we can go so much further. I know we didn’t hit our peak when we worked with the Autons; although that was a particularly wonderful time. You should try joining forces with an enemy of the Doctor with a common motive.”

She couldn’t help staring at him “You _are_ the same version who thought palling it up with the Axons was a good idea, right? Look how well that went.”

“Yes, well,” he folded his arms, practically pouting. She forgot how ridiculous this one was. He thought himself a James Bond villain “I have improved and I’m positive you have too. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

She remembered being Goatee. Despite his flaws, he’d had his entertaining quirks. The tissue compressor was a stroke of genius. And he was fantastic at hypnosis…

“Hm. Hypnosis was fun.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d tried to exercise her hypnotic power. Maybe that time when she made the egg do the Macarena. Even the Doctor had found that amusing…

“You’re considering it.”

She turned to glare at Goatee. He still hadn’t moved from his spot in the corner. “Don’t you know it’s rude to look in a girl’s mind?”

The other Master nodded, taking a step back. She frowned at him and then remembered that he’d spent a lot of time in the 70s. General politeness was to be expected. “Yes, well, if you’re considering it, then I’m pleased to say that my work here is done.”

That was disappointing. “Is that it?! Not going to prattle on about how wonderful you are and fond memories of being evil?”

“Rassilon, no!” Goatee looked almost offended “Long speeches are the Doctor’s forte, not mine! Please don’t say we’ve devolved into speeches?” She smiled at him and he shook his head in dismay “I have things to do. Humans to kill and the Doctor to-“

“Bother?”

He looked downright enraged “You _impertinent-”_

Goatee was cut off mid-sentence. Missy was mildly amused.

-

The clock tolled one.

Again.

Missy was going to have to get that clock fixed if it had to stay. It should be two o’clock if an hour had passed-

“Hello, darling! I heard my future was looking a little peaky.”

Again, Missy turned in her place on the sofa to look at the newcomer.

Oh dear God.

It was the blond one. The one blessed with the gorgeous Doctor with the long legs and spiky hair. The one just before her.

How did she regenerate from him again...?

He laughed at her expression and she tilted her head “Shouldn’t it be another version of me? Not you?”

Blondie shrugged, a disgruntled expression climbing its way up to his face “It’s your dream. Blame your brain, not me.”

Instead of standing to attention in the corner in the way Goatee had, Blondie collapsed onto the stool and kicked his boots onto the piano “Oh, I love a good piano, don’t you? 'Fur Elise' please if you’re taking requests.”

"What’re you even doing here?"

"Same as the other fella- wait, have you not figured it out yet?” He ran a hand across his face, sighing “You’re considering turning away from villainy-“

“Don’t read my mind!”

“Don’t leave it so open! So me and Goatee and Pretty Boy are here to tell you otherwise.”

“Pretty Boy?!”

“One after you. Brilliant job, by the way, he’s better at pretending to be good than the one before me. I think it’s the pretty face. Or the eyes.” He considered for a second and then shook his head “The point is, we’re here to encourage you to go back over to the bad side. Given pretty boy, we can all assume that we succeeded, but the point is, you’re still erring on the side.” He finally pushed himself up from the chair and began to pace “But why though? It’s not like the Doctor’s particularly good looking this time around, and even if he was, that wouldn’t stop you. Take me and Spiky. Or Tremas and the cricketer. Or you could even argue Crispy and Curly.” He shook his head again “You’re not remembering me right, I’m rambling. Are you going through puberty, for Rassilon’s sake? Or for some reason, do you actually find Eyebrows attractive?”

Missy was getting strangely confused, so she shook her head “They’re just my guard. It’s Stockholm syndrome if I do.”

“They?!” The Master laughed incredulously. Shit. “You’ve gone mad. Even madder than me.” He pursed his lips “Well on the way to becoming Pretty Boy, I guess. Maybe you don’t need all of this..”

“Or maybe I’m enjoying this too much to stop?”

Blondie nodded and stopped. He looked over at Missy “Want to reminisce about all the best things we did when you were me?”

“So you remember all of it?”

“Oh stop asking about the plot holes in your bloody dream and let’s talk about how crap humans are.”

Missy grinned at him, patting the spot on the sofa next to her and Blondie settled down “You remember my best plan ever of turning children into weapons?”

Missy couldn’t stop herself from snorting out a laugh “And naming them after a Time Tot’s fairy tale to screw with the Doctor?”

Blondie burst out laughing “Then ageing the Doctor and having him watch while I destroyed the universe. That was so much fun!”

“Poisoned gas while pretending to be the Prime Minister I think was your proudest moment.”

“Pretending? I was democratically voted in, thank you very much!” They both snickered and Blondie grinned “No, my finest moment was duplicating myself and refusing to regenerate.”

Missy laughed at the memory, remembering the teary expression on the Doctor’s face.

And then she frowned.

If that was when she regenerated (that was still misty to her), why would he still regain this form?

She narrowed her eyes “Why do you know that?”

Blondie looked at her, raising his eyebrows “Because I’m in your head. You’re remembering being me and you’re proud of it. It’s why I’m not drumming.”

She looked over at his hand. It was stationary.

“So my question is,” He stood up, leaning down to stare into her eyes “If you’re still so proud of being me, then why are you having doubts? Evil is my bloody middle name!”

He was right, after all. She didn’t know why she was having doubts, to be honest.

Maybe it was the Doctor’s attempt at trying to make her good.

That would explain a lot.

Blondie suddenly broke his eye contact and stretched. He walked back over to the “Well, darling, it looks like I have to go. I would kiss you, but I don’t want to spoil…” he gestured at Missy’s makeup “Remind me to buy eyeliner.”

With that, the second Master disappeared.

-

The clock tolled one.

Missy still didn’t know where the hell that clock was in the room. She was tempted to ‘crack the egg’, as it were, and use her sonic umbrella to electrocute Nardole for leaving her with a broken clock.

Dear God, she was even using the egg’s real name? The next Master had better hurry up.

As if he read her mind, there was a sudden puff of smoke and a young man appeared in the room.

Blondie wasn’t kidding.

The man who’d appeared was darkly coloured, skin, hair and eyes, and he had on the most wonderful Victorian garb. He’d kept Missy’s attraction to the colour purple apparently, as the coat he was sporting was a lovely plum colour.

Yes, this was the fellow after her.

When he saw Missy, he grinned “Hiya. Missed you, girl version. How’s it going?”

“I see we haven’t lost our flair for the dramatic?”

“No. Used it on the Doctor recently and she was quite pleased. Well. She would’ve been if I hadn’t killed half of the room.”

She? Eyebrows _would_ be pleased.

“Wonderful, darling. How’d you do it?”

He gave an almost feral grin, producing an item from behind his back that Missy hadn’t seen in _years_. “We’re back using this.”

She whistled, standing up to walk in circles around him just to admire her future self “Did you tell Goatee about this?”

The feral grin dropped and it turned into something more genuinely excited “No, but he’d love it, wouldn’t he! I found it in the TARDIS and thought it was time to use it again.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his almost childlike glee “So what’re your arguments to come back to villainy?”

The feral grin made a reappearance, stretching into something so wonderfully insane, Blondie would be proud “I don’t have any.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. There was something he wasn’t quite saying “Then why are you quite obviously a villain again?”

He took a step towards her “I don’t remember. I last remember being good. Funny isn’t it?”

She tilted her head, trying to figure out his argument.

And laughing about how he was shorter than her in heels.

“Your idea is to be good and just hope I turn out evil next time around?”

He nodded, the smile turning more cheery “If that’s what you’re after.”

He was insane. The idea was ludicrous

“Why?”

“Piss the Doctor off.”

That was... honestly the most convincing argument she’d heard all day.

“Well honestly, if I absolutely have to-“

“Missy?”

She turned her head. It was the Doctor, bringing her a new pile of -thankfully horror- books. They looked worried “Are you okay?”

She looked around to find her copy of ‘A Christmas Carol’ on the side of the sofa. She must have fallen asleep. “Perfectly fine, dear.”

“I heard voices.”

“I’d talk to the egg about that. Sounds concerning.” The Doctor chuckled and she joined in. “Thanks for the books by the way.”

They looked almost hopeful “Um, no… no problem. Thanks for the… the thanks.”

She graced them with a smile and pushed them back against the sofa, book in hand “Read me this one.”

They gave an amused chuckle, taking the book from her and she settled on their lap to listen to them read aloud. If their hand reached down to stroke through her hair, she didn’t say anything.

If Pretty Boy was right and her return to villainy was right around the corner, she could at least enjoy her time with the Doctor while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless reference to Capaldi's role in The Personal History of David Copperfield is shameless.  
> DISCLAIMER: Missy's scorn should not be taken as the author's opinion on the classics.


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Jack Harkness, and Rose Tyler take a trip to the Pyramid of Kaloon, and the Doctor and Jack can't help revealing something to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluff from me to you. I love Jack/Nine and I hope you all do too.

It was just after passing into the vortex after escaping war-torn London that Rose sidled up to the Doctor, her big eyes wide. She'd been quiet ever since, just stealing looks at both the Doctor and Jack, and the Doctor couldn't help but think she was up to something.

She spoke in her awkward little stage-whisper where her mouth opens just a little too wide. (She found it embarrassing. The Doctor found it endearing.) “Can I ask you something?”

The Doctor nodded, pretending to finish up with some work on the TARDIS just to look extra impressive despite how no-one was watching “Go ahead.”

“Is…” she gestured at where Jack Harkness was lying, messing with the mechanics underneath the console.  The Doctor couldn't quite remember why he hadn't dropped him off yet. Maybe it was because he said he was good at mechanics. Maybe it was because he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes-

No. Not that. The Doctor's gaze didn't linger on his friends, thank you very much.

“Are you and him a…?” The Doctor frowned at Rose's words and she finished the sentence "Do you fancy him?"

The Doctor felt his eyes widening, turning his head away from looking at where the shirt had ridden up on Jack's stomach. “What?”

Rose gave a wide smile, pushing her tongue behind her teeth “Cause I won’t mind if you are. I just want to know what the situation is.” She took in the Doctor’s expression and her grin got bigger “Is that why you don’t like him flirting?”

“Rose, whatever you think is going on between myself and Jack is none of your concern. Go help Jack with his tinkering.”

Her tongue grazed the corner of her mouth and the Doctor became very much aware that he hadn't quite said no.

He didn't quite  _ think _ no.

Oh, Rassilon, he didn't  _ like _ Jack, did he?

Instead of pushing the subject, Rose just smiled and changed it. She seemed to realise that she'd come through on this, and the Doctor presumed that it was all thoroughly amusing to her. “Is there anywhere in the galaxy where I could go shopping? I don’t think my shoes are good enough for all of this running.”

Thankful for the change of subject, the Doctor grimaced but then considered “There’s the Glass Pyramid of San Kaloon. It’s like the Co-Op building in Stockport, just a bit more impressive. Bottom floors are dining and pools, and top floors are shopping. You get some amazing views as well, all across the deserts and lakes. San Kaloon is a fantastic place, you’d love it for tourism alone. I once went with this particularly annoying-”

“It’s perfect!” Rose interrupted “You can borrow my phone, and we can split up from there."

The Doctor wasn't an idiot. He could read into her words "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Yes! Oh come on, if it's a shopping centre, I'll be safe, won't I?"

He hated to admit it, but she was right. The Glass Pyramid was pretty much the safest place the Doctor could have chosen.

The restaurants overlooked the gorgeous valley and were the best place for a first date.

If that's what you wanted, anyway.

Jack didn't look amused. “Shoe shopping? Doesn’t seem like my kind of deal.”

“That’s okay,” Rose said hurriedly “You and the Doctor can just explore the surrounding area.”

Jack still looked put out and the Doctor grinned at him “They do the best champagne at that end of the galaxy. Barely costs a credit.”

A grin slowly grew across his face “Oh alright. Set co-ordinates to San Kaloon.”

The Doctor chuckled and saluted, setting the controls “Yes, boss.”

-

“Where’s Rose gone?” Jack asked, his mouth turning into a frown and the Doctor smiled at him.

The moment they'd arrived at the Pyramid, Rose had immediately bounded off, citing 'places to be, shoes to buy!' She'd left the Doctor with her phone, and a promise that she'd return in an hour. As a result, the Doctor had dragged Jack to the nearest cafe in an attempt to sample some of the famous champagne that Jack had been so interested in in the first place.

For that reason, the Doctor couldn't help but laugh when Jack had waited until downing a whole glass of the glorious stuff before asking the glaring question. “Off. She seems to think we should talk.”

Jack's expression turned almost filthy “Oh, finally giving us the alone time we deserve, that right, Doctor?”

The Doctor sighed. He should've known he'd be like this. “Listen, Jack, that’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I think that’s why Rose left us alone to be honest.” Jack narrowed his eyes in confusion and the Doctor gestured at him to sit down in the chair opposite. He threw his arms over the back of the chair, and the movement really showed off his pectoral muscles…

“Doctor?”

The Doctor shook his head, his eyes returning to the man’s face, and grinned at Jack “Sorry. But Rose seems to think we’re a…” he gestured between them.

“Shagging?”

The very British word sounded strange to Jack’s American accent. “No. She thinks we’re… you know….”

Jack still wasn’t getting it, but then his eyes went wide “Together?!”

The Doctor nodded slowly. That was probably the best way of putting it “Yeah. Together.”

“Huh.” Jack pursed his lips and leaned forward to swipe up his glass of champagne. The Doctor couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor in his hand “Well what did you say?”

“I didn’t, well, I didn’t end up saying  _ anything _ really,” the Doctor could feel his voice shaking and turned to look at one of the purple bats pecking at the crumbs discarded by fellow restaurant patrons.

Anything to get his mind away from the topic in hand.

“You know the bats here have basically taken over the city in the same way pigeons have in the UK? They’re scavengers. Love a bit of-“

“Doctor.” The Doctor stopped talking and looked back up at Jack, feigning a quick grin. Jack’s hand reached across the table to take his own. His eyes were soft “If that’s what you want, I’m more than willing to...” Jack’s expression turned back into a more natural (flirtatious) one, as though protecting his softer side “If this is our first date, I’ll pay.”

The Doctor felt a more genuine smile spread across his face. He squeezed Jack’s hand “You’d better.”

After the somewhat awkward tension had passed, the pair immediately relaxed into a more playful atmosphere, trading silly stories of adventures they’d had over the bottle of champagne. When they finished, they paid and began to walk, hand in hand up to the viewing deck. The sight of the desert and the beautiful long winding river through it that led into the bottom of the Pyramid was breathtaking. The Doctor had seen it many times, admiring the way the crystalline water sparkled when the sun hit it and the way the black sand gently ebbed against the trailing river, but it never got old to him. It was one of the many wonders of the galaxy.

And, although he wouldn't tell him, there's no-one he'd rather be admiring it with than one Captain Jack Harkness.

The Doctor glanced over from his side of the bench to see Jack's expression, and he seemed as mesmerised at the Doctor felt. Finally, the Doctor felt as though he could say it. "Jack?"

Jack turned to look at him and the Doctor tried to hide a smile at just how awestruck Jack looked at the sight in front of him.

It was beautiful to see a human lost for words, and Jack was certainly no exception.

After what felt like an hour, the Doctor let himself speak "You were, um, very impressive back in the forties. As much as there are things about you that I don't like, I'm pretty sure that there are more things about you that I do like."

Jack sniggered into his hand "Is that your way of saying you fancy me and that was our first date?"

The Doctor looked around and then shrugged as he realised no-one was watching. "If you like."

Jack grinned, shifting towards him so that their shoulders touched besides their twined hands "I think that's perfectly fine with me, Mr Spock. As long as you don't say it in that way ever again, I'm alright with that."

The Doctor went to rest his head on his shoulder fondly and he felt Jack's settle on his as they watched the horizon. It was just so-

“So!” Rose was back, her hands full of shopping bags and she grinned widely, looking between the two of them. She looked rather proud of herself, her smile becoming more triumphant by the second.

Both Jack and the Doctor sprang away from one another as she settled herself between them “Nice to see you two again.”

“Successful shopping trip?”

“Aw yeah, brilliant.” She shook her bag “Never seen half of this stuff before.”

The Doctor took the offered credit stick and slipped it back in his pocket “You better not have bled me dry.”

She turned big eyes on him and he suppressed the smile “The saleswoman was particularly fit. I thought if I bought enough off her, she’d give me her number.”

“Hang on, I thought you fancied Micky?!”

Rose blushed, pushing her hair behind her ears only for it to fall back again. Her expression turned mischievous as she turned to Jack “How was your date?”

Jack shared an amused look with the Doctor and then patted Rose’s shoulder “To take the Doctor’s term, fantastic. He really wasn’t kidding about the champagne. You gotta try it some time, the way the bubbles dissolve on your tongue is delicious. Delicioso!”

Jack smacked his lips and the Doctor had the feeling that the expression on his face was far too fond.

When Rose prodded him, he grinned at her “What he said. Absolutely marvellous.”

If Rose noticed the Doctor’s hand reach along the back of the bench to hold Jack’s, she didn’t comment.

-

The rest of the day passed in a blissfully uneventful fashion. By the time it came to the night, all three travellers had discarded their usual garb and exchanged them for swimming gear and headed down to the lowest deck for some poolside activity. A flash of the Doctor's psychic paper and they were sipping mimosas on the otherwise empty beach. The Pyramid had been built atop the San Kaloon river, so it was almost criminal to not end your trip with a visit to see it up close.

Although not advisable, Jack had mixed booze and the water and was currently trying to climb up the (thankfully empty) water slide.

“You can’t do it, that’s impossible! Water resistance and the slickness of the slide will mean you’re falling within a matter of minutes!”

“No such thing as ‘impossible’, Doctor, you taught me that!”

The Doctor watched Jack as he climbed, his legs and mind dizzy with the drinks he’d consumed and his hearts feeling full. Rose, as mischievous as ever and feeling the alcohol a lot more than the Doctor, raised her cocktail to Jack “Set a wager! Set a wager!”

The Doctor sat back in his chair, folding his arms and looking up at the sight. Jack was yet to reach the first loop. Drunkenness and the fact that the running water hadn’t yet been turned off had to be major contenders to that. Based on science alone, the Doctor was feeling fairly confident that no matter what he wanted of Jack, he’d be able to fulfil it. He raised his voice so the man would hear him “Alright! If you don’t make it to the top, I want you to follow my orders no questions asked!”

“Kinky!” Jack yelled, gripping both sides of the slide with serious force “If I do make it to the top, I want a hero’s kiss!”

The Doctor rolled his eyes “Go on then!”

Against all conceivable laws of physics, Jack had made it.

“Gravity and water resistance can suck my dick!” Jack whooped, doing a little dance at the little hut that marked the start of the slide. Of course, this didn’t go very well, and after a particularly high kick, Jack was back off down the slide.

And the sight made both the Doctor and Rose both break down into uncontrollable cacophonous laughter.

A drenched Captain Jack Harkness, his hair dripping with every step he took was heading towards him. Instead of looking as murderous as the Doctor would, he found him grinning wildly. In the Doctor's direction "Now, Doctor, I do believe I'm owed a kiss."

His laughter suddenly halting as he remembered the deal, the Doctor swallowed and nodded "I think you're right."

Jack, of course, took full advantage of his confusion to reach down to the Doctor's face and kiss him passionately.

Not that he’d had any doubt in the matter, but Jack Harkness was a particularly good kisser.

And the Doctor had kissed a fair amount of people.

He heard Rose applauding behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted to lose himself in the moment, if only for a little while.

When he broke away, he blinked up at Jack "Yes. Okay. Fantastic."

Rose giggled and the Doctor blamed his ineptitude in eloquence on the drink. Jack looked very proud of himself as he sauntered over to the other side of the table and collapsed next to Rose "I need ice cream. Sundae, I think. Get my energy up." He wriggled his eyebrows "You never know if I might need it."

"You haven't bought me a drink yet," The flirtations came out of the Doctor's mouth automatically and Jack grinned, raising his hand and ordering another round. The Doctor rolled his eyes as a giant sundae and another three mimosas appeared in front of Jack.

He pushed one towards the Doctor "One drink, as you requested."

The Doctor grinned as he took it "Nice try, but I don't put out on the first date." Jack pouted, Rose giggled again and the Doctor sat back in his chair “Right! One more cocktail, and then back on the TARDIS!"

Both Jack and Rose booed, but the Doctor held up his hand "We need a quick stop off at Cardiff to let the TARDIS charge on the rift and then back on our adventures, hm? I think Woman Wept tired her out.” 

Jack rolled his eyes as he tucked into his sundae "Why did I agree to date such a party pooper."

The Doctor shrugged, his grin getting wider "It was your idea. Guess you've just got good taste."

"For that, you don't get any of my sundae." The Doctor rolled his eyes fondly as Jack passed Rose one of the spoons he'd been given and turning pointedly away from the Doctor. Shaking his head, the Doctor reached into his pocket to throw Rose her phone “You can text Ricky.”

She smiled widely, pocketing her phone again and licking the tip of her spoon “I can tell him to bring my passport?”

“Why don’t you just tell him you want to see him again?” The Doctor couldn’t help but ask. A stupid question, presumably, based on the expressions on both Jack and Rose’s faces. “Just ignore me then.”

Jack chuckled and turned to Rose and the Doctor smiled at them as they childishly went to guard the sundae from his gaze. Just watching these two people interact made his hearts hurt. The two people who were his… His family.

That’s what they were. His possibly-one-day-but-not-quite-yet-boyfriend and a woman he couldn’t help but view as his daughter.

For the first time since the war, the Doctor felt like he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose Tyler is adorable. Can you tell I fancy Billie Piper.  
> I just wanted her to set up her space dads; I felt like there was a huge jump from 'The Doctor Dances' to 'Boom Town' where the Doctor and Jack went from disliking each other to basically going on a double date with Rose and Mickey and flirting in the TARDIS. So voila.


End file.
